A Winter's Tale (version X-Men)
by Hemlock
Summary: Rogue's wish finally came true one winter morning... in a very insensible way. The rest were jubilated, except for Logan... [this is a bit of movieverse, so bear with me =)]
1. Default Chapter Title

  
  


_December 23  
morning_

  
  
  
"Wake up, sleepy head. Southern belles are supposed to be early risers."  
  
Rogue heard the voice intruded her pleasant dream that was filled with Remy's skin and lips and eyes. "Where did you hear such a crap?" She rubbed her eyes groggily.  
  
Kitty walked through her bed, folded a blanket into a smaller portion and placed it on her bed. "Get up, anyway. Mr Scott is raising hell at the baseball field with his pre-Christmas league."  
  
"Pre-Christmas - ? What the hell?" Rogue slipped back between the covers. "Now that's a real crap."  
  
"Not when," Rogue heard Jubilee's voice gleefully said, "Remy's on the team as well."  
  
"Quit it, Lee. It's not working."  
  
"And Logan's there, too…"  
  
"Lee." Rogue's voice was flat, irritated.  
  
"Maybe we'll leave her to her dreams, Kitty. Let's go and see the real things."  
  
"Yeah," Kitty answered. "I bet Remy's looking very fetching in those tights!"  
  
Rogue immediately pushed her bedclothes aside. "Wait, wait!"  
  
  
It turned out no one in the mini league was wearing those 'fetching tights'; everyone was wearing warm clothes. It was cold outside, but not too cold to have some sort of activities. Plus, it had stopped snowing.   
  
Scott's voice carried far and barely reached the girls. "Base three, look out!… lock it, Warren! … hey, that's unfair!"   
Logan's deep, harsh voice sounded like rough sandpaper rubbed together in the crisp cool air. "Shut up, Cyke. The boy's got there in time!"  
  
"Kurt ** teleported** himself to that base. That's not a legal move!"  
  
Kurt shook his head, his deep blue face a stark contrast to the white snow around them. "You Americans and your rules." He grinned.  
  
Warren flew above them, the ball in his hand. "I'm sorry, Scott. My feathers are wet and they can't fly fast." He landed softly on the clearing that was their makeshift arena Hank and Peter had cleared earlier that morning . He flapped his wings repeatedly to dry them off. "Rats. Now I'll have to borrow hairdryers again."  
  
"We'll lend ours, Warren!" squealed a bunch of girls at the far side of the clearing. Warren flashed his winning smile and waved. More squeals of delight issued.  
  
Kitty shook his head. "What a bunch of immature girls."   
  
"Hey, Kat. Look, there's Bobby," Jubilee said, pointing to Bobby at the second base.  
  
"Oh, Bobby! _Hi_!" squealed Kitty.  
  
The game resumed after Scott made everyone promised they wouldn't use their powers. Cheers and catcalls were aplenty as the sun rose higher. At eleven Logan's team was declared as winners and the game ended.  
  
Scott's team task as the defeated ones were to collect the equipments and put them back into the PE room. Rogue waited because Remy was a member of Scott's team. She sat at a bench talking to Jean.  
  
Peter was also in Scott's team, and couldn't believe they had just lost to Logan's. "I am certainly sure I made an honest home run just now! I did not certainly use my power! Did you see me use my power?" He turned at Warren who picked up bases off the ground. "Did you?"  
  
"Oh shut up." Warren flew off, irritated. His wings were still wet and the girls who had been screaming for him now were reluctant to lend him hairdryers.  
  
"I did not!" Peter shouted, his heavily accented voice filled the air. "I did not use my power!" He grabbed a bat and a ball and hit the ground repeatedly. "I did not use my power! If I did it would look something like this!"  
  
Peter threw the ball upwards and gathered his strength as he focused at the ball.   
  
Remy noticed this. "Hey, _ mon ami_, stow it. We're done for."  
  
Peter took no notice of it. "This would happen if I used my powers!" A loud thwack sounded and Remy suddenly saw Rogue fell flat on the snow, motionless.  
  
Remy dropped everything he held except for a baseball glove. He charged it and threw it angrily at Peter as he ran towards Rogue. "Fool! Imbecile!"  
  
_

December 24  
5 a.m.

_  
  
"… the blow must have been too hard on her head…"  
  
"… but she's all right. I'll have to…"  
  
The voices sailed back and forth in Rogue's murky mind. Like the game 'Pong' it bounced off restlessly, making her head pulsed and she let out a painful whimper.  
  
All at once she felt people surround her as she slowly open her eyes. Logan's face filled her view at first, scowling. "Kid, you okay?" he asked.  
  
Before she could reply another face replaced Logan's; Remy's dark eyes were tender and full with concern. "Mon ange, it's me -"  
  
"Move away! Give her some room!" Rogue saw an arm push him away from her view and tried to stop it by stretching her arm towards it. It was pure instinct, and before she could stop herself, she had her hand around Remy's chin.  
  
"Please don't leave me…"  
  
Silence reigned. Remy, with Rogue's hand still at his chin, touched the hand himself, bracing himself for the shock. Nothing happened.  
  
Eyes grew wider. Silence filled the ward.  
  
Rogue was still muttering incoherently as her hand ran across Remy's chin, mumbling pleasant nonsense as she fell back to sleep, unaware of the growing shock around her.  
  
  
"I'm not going to explain this."  
  
"Why?" Jean asked.  
  
"Because I don't know what happened."   
  
Emma Frost sulked. "Coming from you, I find it hard to believe."  
  
Hank nodded slowly. Somehow the blow Peter, or Colossus accidentally gave Rogue had render her powers ineffective. CAT scan offered no further clues. Her brain wasn't damaged or shaken and she clearly didn't suffer amnesia. She was fine when he let her out just now.  
  
"So what the hell happened?" Logan asked angrily. "I'll be having that bulk of metal for Christmas pudding if he don't fix this! Stupid Russian! And that Cajun! Why wasn't he lookin' out for her? What the blazes was he thinkin' about?"  
Prof Xavier shook his head. "It's not a time to point fingers, Logan. Hank did the best he could. Gambit was unaware of it, he told he honestly, and I'm sure Peter didn't mean to hurt anyone."  
  
"Well, it sure looks he did the other way 'round. An' that Cajun's s'posed to look out for her," Logan mumbled as he sought his pocket for cigarettes and took out one. Suddenly it flew from his fingers and towards Jean.  
  
"Jean, stop that!"  
  
"No smoking in this room," she said coolly as she passed it to Scott who grinned at him widely. He aimed it at the wastepaper basket. Logan only growled angrily.  
  
"I'll smoke outside," he said as he walked away in a huff.  
  
  
They sat down facing the sunrise, Rogue rested snugly on Remy's lap while he cradled her as close as he could. Now and then he would drop butterfly kisses on her neck and cheeks and look at each other's eyes and smiled. He held her head slightly, the pain still there.  
  
"You're so huggable. Why did God made someone as huggable as you also untouchable?"  
  
Rogue stared at Remy's tender eyes and smiled. "Now you can. So use it wisely." She ran a finger down his chin that was covered by five o'clock shadow. "I know I am using it wisely." The feel of minute hair abrading her fingertip was both new and overwhelming. In fact, every part of human skin she thought she would never touch gave the same emotions she was feeling as she stroked Remy until he growled deep in his chest.  
  
"I could stay like this forever," Rogue said with a sigh, resting her head on his broad chest, listening to his even heartbeat. "I want to stay like this forever."  
  
Remy kissed her forehead, one kiss was never enough. He stroked her hair. "We can always be like dis."  
  
Rogue thought Remy's voice wavered a bit. She lifted her face to meet his eyes. They were as tender, but clouded with uncertainty. "You don't like that idea?"  
  
Remy's face lit up instantly. "_Non,_ _mon ange_! I like it! Now I'll be your shadow, following wherever you go." He winked at her once. "Maybe even your _bedroom_."  
  
She playfully pinched his cheek, the texture there smooth and rough at the same time. "That's one place you're not going to see for quite a long time, mister."  
  
  
Logan saw this, and silently he sucked in at the cigarette, the red tip glowing under the golden dawn. He discarded and stepped upon it with unnecessary force. He vanished into the mansion without a sound.  
  
  


_12 noon_

  
  
"Kurt Wagner is driving me nuts!" said Melinda the cook. "First that darned elf takes my puddings, then he takes the cookies! Next goes half of the Christmas turkey, and goodness what else later! So, I need someone to look after my creations while I go out to find another turkey!"  
  
Logan shook his head. "Not accepted. I can look after a place or even the Pope, but never 'your creation'. That's degrading."  
  
"But then there'll be nothing for the Christmas dinner!"  
  
"You won't die, Mel. Nobody will die just for not eating the Christmas dinner!"  
  
"But it's this mansion's tradition - "  
  
"Tradition my foot!" Logan walked out of the kitchen angrily. Guarding over food was certainly not in his list. "That can all go to hell."  
  
Melinda gasped, her ears never quite used to curses and profanities. She silently went back to the kitchen and sat there guarding the foodstuffs alone while waiting for the cake to bake in the oven, her face sullen and miserable.  
  
Logan watched this with renewed regret. He knew he was being impossible with everybody today. Jean had asked him to help cut ribbons for wrapping presents - "Your claws will make it easier" - and he rudely declined. Ororo had wanted him to help them with the Christmas tree and he did until he saw Peter the Russian helping him with the other end. He dropped the tree down at the driveway and walked away, leaving Ororo speechless.   
  
There were more, but he refused to think of them.   
  
He knew this whole impossibility had one source: Rogue. What he saw over the hedges earlier this morning made him realise she had grown, free to decide what's good for her being. Something in Logan's mind agreed. The rest just won't stand up to the facts.   
  
He slowly tried to think rationally. _ She's all grown now, and you don't need to look out for her anymore.   
  
But she's powerless now. How can she protect herself if this is permanent?  
  
That Cajun'll do her good. You can smell it. I_ know_ he'll be good to her. If he didn't, I'll just have to remind him the way I always do with forgetful folks._  
  
"Uh… Mel?" Logan stood on the kitchen's doorway.  
  
She replied without turning. "What is it?"  
  
"I'll look out for the foods. You go and do whatever you want to do."  
  
Melinda immediately brightened. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah. Now buzz off before I change my mind."  
  
Melinda got up from her seat and planted a quick kiss on Logan's nose. It was easy because he was almost the same height as she was, only his muscles made him look bigger. "Thanks for being such a dear."  
  
Logan managed a smile. "You can eat any cookies you want there, Logan. Just remember to leave some for tonight'" Melinda said as she walked to the door.  
  
"I hate cookies. And, Mel?"  
  
She stopped. "Yes?"  
  
"Do me some favor before you shop?"  
  
  
Kurt was gasping for breath. Logan on hunting never failed to do that to him. Although he had the advantage of teleportation, Logan's keen sense of smell was Kurt's Achilles' heel. After several times of failed attempts on Melinda's sacred wares he gave up and teleported himself to other part of the mansion.  
  
He was mumbling about the cakes and cookies he could have taken from Logan when he passed by Rogue's bedroom. It was open and she was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a small packet on her lap. Other girls were around her as she read aloud from a piece of paper:  
  
"… it's almost Christmas, and I hope this can be a nice present for you." She paused and lifted the packet from her lap. "It's cookies!" she said, rattling it in her hand. "How sweet of him!"  
  
"Who would have thought Mr Howler himself do something like that?" Ororo said as she picked up two tree ornaments from a box. "Will these angels do?" She showed it to them. Agreement came fast as Kurt walked in, playing with his tail.  
  
"Hi Kurt, you're looking kinda down." Rogue pulled him to sit down beside her.   
  
"Nothing. Just that Logan stopped me from grabbing cookies and cakes. Mel had him as a guard while she goes shopping." He inspected his tail wistfully.  
  
A collective moan rose. "I'm sorry we asked you to slip the cookies for us," Jean said, pausing between the ribbons. "And Logan these days is SO touchy. Say one word to him and you'll be getting curses enough to put the three Witches of Hamlet to tears."  
  
Kurt grinned. "Isn't he always. So," he turned to Rogue. "How does it feel to touch people?"  
  
Silence slowly fell upon them. Only the rip rip of the ribbons and the clanking of ornaments filled the void. Every eye was upon Rogue, waiting for her answer.  
  
She set aside the present but stared at the paper Logan had scrawled upon. "It's amazing, Kurt. You know, I cried at first when I learnt that my powers were gone. But now I feel comfortable with it."  
  
"Only comfortable? Not happy with it?"  
  
Ororo said without looking up from the box. "Of course she is, Kurt. Don't be so dense."  
  
"Well, who's dense enough to wear that ugly Easter Bunny costume last Easter?" Kurt asked, swinging his tail.  
  
"I was forced, Kurt. **Forced**. That's different."  
  
"Still, you looked dense in that costume," Kurt said, checking his tail for dust. A red ball hit his head and giggles rose. Later the room was filled with loud laughter, flying stray ribbons, ornaments and cookie crumbs.  
  
  
The uproar ended an hour ago. It was evening, and snow started to fall outside, making the evening darker than it supposed to be. Faintly Rogue could hear carollers singing outside. She rushed to the window and true enough, the driveway was filled with people dressed up warmly and holding candles.   
  
She was downstairs a minute later and stood there watching the carollers. Prof Xavier, Ororo, Jean, Scott and Hank were also there. Thankfully, none of the carollers was unnerved by Hank's sheer size and blue fur.   
  
Their sweet voices mingled in harmony as the old carol 'Hark the herald Angels sing' floated in the air. When they finished, everyone clapped. Prof Xavier later invited the carolers inside for tea, and Melinda proudly served her famous peanut cookies.   
  
When they left, everyone was in good moods. Ororo immediately started decorating the tree with Warren flapping around to place the ornaments on too high a spot. Jean and Scott piled the presents under the tree. Kurt prepared the hall for the traditional midnight mass while Peter and Hank discussed the aesthetics of Christmas decorations in the hall.  
  
"I've never seen such high spirits in them," Prof Xavier remarked as he quickly moved to Logan who was walking away from the hall. "And naturally I expect it from you, too."  
  
Logan's nostrils flared. "Christmas's never been a favourable time for me."  
  
Xavier stopped. "Is there something bothering you, Logan? I heard complaints. I'm not going to elaborate on them -"  
  
"Good." Logan stared at him. "Don't."  
  
"- but I need explanations."  
  
"My 'Don't' refers to anything that has to do with it, Professor."  
  
Xavier pushed on. "It's strange to see. Your sudden change of attitude coincides with Rogue's loss of power. Is there a connection?"  
  
Logan stared at his feet, then at Xavier. His eyes were tiny slits. Xavier knew he hit a raw point.  
  
"Why don't you just use your powers? That would save a lot of time." Logan's voice was sharply sarcastic.  
  
"Look, Logan. I don't claim I know everything. What goes between you and Rogue is none of my concern -"  
  
"Then stop." Logan started to walk away, deeply irritated.  
  
"- but venting out your anger on unsuspecting people, not to mention friends, is not a good tackle to solve a problem. In the end they'll end up hating you."  
  
Logan stopped. He stood still.  
  
"Just a friendly reminder, Logan." He heard his wheelchair moved away from him. "Merry Christmas."  
  
He muttered under his breath. "Yeah. Merry flamin' Christmas."  
  
  


_Midnight, Christmas Eve_

  
  
Everyone sang 'Silent Night' as the mass ended. Kurt had given a wonderful mass, but looking slightly out of place in a priest's garb with a tail stuck out from beneath the garment, swinging now and then. Later there were refreshments as half of the students started to retire to their rooms.  
  
Logan, as usual, sat alone on a sofa with a can of beer in his hand. Jubilee had offered him punch and he had glowered at her. "Get me some beer, kid," he had said, and Jubilee returned later with three cans.   
  
"Professor's treat for you, Logan. And thanks for the present you gave us." Jubilee dropped a peck at his cheek, bushy with hair. "They're delicious."  
  
He only snorted as Jubilee sailed to the other group who weren't ready to retire yet. Hank was there, talking loudly, punctuated by laughter. Around him were the other X-Men; Jean, Ororo, Warren, Kurt, Scott, Bishop, Professor Xavier, the Irish guy (he forgot his name for the time being) and Emma Frost.   
  
Logan drained the last can and got up, ready to retire to bed. As he walked to the stairs he caught two figures slipping out at the front door. He thought he saw a band of white hair.  
  
Hank was about to tell his audience the one with a nun and a rabbi when suddenly they heard a loud crash from the front door. "What was that?" Emma asked.  
  
"Logan," Professor Xavier replied. "He's been acting weird since last morning. I think I know why… don't look at me like that. I am not going to say a word to all of you."  
  
"Maybe he's drunk," Scott said.  
  
"That happens when the sun rises in the west, boyo," said Sean, swirling his punch glass. "Hank, go on!"  
  
  
They walked outside, hand in hand. Rogue held Remy's hand a bit too tightly and Remy asked her to let go, which she did. "Gambit's not made of de organic metal, ye know?"  
  
"Speaking of organic skins, where's Peter?"  
  
"You want to thank him for becoming his target practice, yes?" Remy wrapped an arm around her as they walked down the snow-laden path. The darkness was pierced by light spilling from the windows and reflected on the snow. "I took care of dat."  
  
"You mean, you took care of the beating part." She felt snowflakes fell on her forehead and brushed it aside. "I mean, really thank him, you know? Come to think of it, it's funny. I never thank someone for hitting me senseless."  
  
She felt his hand grasped her a bit tighter. "Dat's not funny. What if it turned out bad? Peter's a very strong man. It's a wonder you ended up like dis instead of a - a vegetable."  
  
"You know it didn't. So let's drop it." This talk was getting her emotions tensed up.  
  
Remy blinked at her, the red pupils shone in the semi-darkness. He sighed and pulled her closer. "_Oui_, my queen. Now, shall we get on with… de touching topic?"  
  
Her smile matched his in its eagerness. "I don't know," she said enticingly. "Why don't you show me? I'm quite a tyro with these matters. I need to learn from the master."  
  
  
Logan laid still on his bed, the sheets riding low on his flat stomach. Coldness never bothers him. But that morning the core of his soul was icy cold.   
  
  
So, did you like it? Wait for the second chapter, though. And please review =) 


	2. Default Chapter Title

  
  


_December 25  
Christmas Day_

  
  
"MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYBODY!"  
  
Sean Cassidy's voice, befitting his codename Banshee, rang throughout the mansion. He woke up hours ago, and had been shouting since. The rest of the mansion had also woken up. Later, fresh from their baths and dressed in their best, everyone was in high spirits. It was snowing outside, and inside a very traditional-looking breakfast sat in the great hall waiting for the hungry mouths to devour them.  
  
After breakfast, it was time to open presents. Warren got there first and started reading out names from the boxes. Kurt passed them to its rightful owner using his teleportation abilities. Soon enough everyone had their presents. Bing Crosby sang in the background.  
  
"I bet Logan had one, too," Jubilee said.   
  
"How do you know? Who would give him a present?" Kitty asked.  
  
Rogue stared at Kitty reproachfully. "What do you mean, _ who would give him a present_? He's the nicest man around, of course he gets a present!"  
  
"Did you give one to him?" Kitty asked her.   
  
Rogue paused, but before she could reply, Kitty cut in. "You didn't, did you?"  
  
"I only had enough money to buy Remy's present, all right?" Inside Rogue cursed herself for forgetting Logan's present. But if she did, what would have she bought for him? She didn't even know what were his preferences. And Logan had been staring at her strangely; at times she was sure he'd jump on her and tear her to pieces.  
  
"I did," Jubilee said, to the surprise of them both. "I bought him a present."  
  
Their eyes were round with wonder. "You did?!"  
  
  
Logan had woken up that Christmas morning with Cassidy's supersonic voice ringing throughout the house and he felt like Scrooge beating the living tar out of that Irishman's body if it were not Christmas. To calm himself, he took a cold shower while outside was -2°C and snowing.   
  
He went down wearing nothing more than a turtleneck knitted sweater and jeans and joined the breakfast with an expression that would have sent angels scurrying back to Heaven. Later he saw with dry amusement as they gave away presents. But it surprised him when a box had his name on it. Kurt appeared beside him and said, "Merry Christmas, Logan," while extending the present from a safe distance. He snatched it from Kurt and was silent until everyone except him left the hall for some party at the gym.  
  
He stared at the present in his lap as if it would make the thing disappear. It was rather large, about 6" by 10". The longer he stared at it the more he wanted to kick it out of his sight. Next thing he realised he was opening it with total care, as if he were defusing a bomb. When it was open, he was mildly surprised what the present had contained, his emotions partially indicated by the deepening crease between his brows.  
  
It was a sketchbook with a complete set of art supplies: chalk, pencils, fine-point pens, and a German sharpener of sorts. When he lifted up the sketchbook a piece of paper fell out. On it were written in small neat scripts these words:  
  
_Merry Christmas to the nicest man around. Keep on drawing._  
  
He recalled Jubilee's smiling face who caught him sketching a tree last August with unnerving clarity. She had called him:  
  
"Logan…?"  
  
Jubilee's smiling face suddenly shifted into Scott's sunglassed one. Logan immediately frowned, quickly stood up with the sketchbook and went upstairs before Scott could say anything else.  
  
"Touchy," Scott muttered to himself.  
  
  
Rogue just walked out of her room when she collided with Logan. Briefly forgetting her powerless state, she immediately withdrew from him. From Logan's stare she recalled her current condition and knew he mistook it for something akin to fear.  
  
He walked past her as if she were a stranger. He had been since two days ago. She slowly went over the past days and realised that she, too, had been avoiding him.   
  
"Logan."   
  
Logan kept on walking down the corridor.  
  
"Logan, _please_."  
  
His pace slowed down somewhat before coming to a full stop.  
  
"What have I done to you that you see it fit to bark at anyone crossing your path these days?"  
  
"Never have put you on my problem priority list, hon. Got a ton of them myself to think of 'sides you."  
  
"I don't give a damn about your problems. What matters now is this. You're being totally, unreasonably impossible. And that is not a good attitude to put on, especially on Christmas."  
  
Logan gave a humorless laugh. "I thought that cookie thing took care of that."  
  
"Gifts don't reflect your attitude, Logan. You should be more aware of other people's feelings - "  
  
"Now look who's talking 'bout 'other people's feelings' here." Logan suddenly cut in as he swiveled on one foot, walked briskly towards and stopped in front of her - all in one dizzying move - his eyes dark and burning with anger. "It's funny, because, since you last got knocked out and lost your powers, you didn't give a damn about what other people would think about while you've been goin' on a joyride with that Cajun like he's the last man on earth you'd want to fu-"  
  
Logan's words were cut short by a stinging slap. It wasn't painful to his skin; in fact it felt merely like a bumblebee's wings. But the hurt was deeper. Something dislodged from his mind: realization came next. He looked at Rogue.  
  
Rogue's eyes were brimming with tears. The hand that she slapped his cheek with felt slightly stiff, Logan's skin unexpectedly hard. "I never thought my first touch on you would be out of hate, Logan."  
  
Logan shook his head. "Buzz off, Rogue. Forget this whole thing. Forget me. It'll be easier." His voice was reproachful but soft.  
  
"Don't you buzz-off me, mister! Dammit!" Rogue ran after him as he began to walk away from her again. She grabbed the arm of his sweater and forced him to stand still. "Listen, dumb ass! My private life is what I want it to be! I can jump on anyone's bones for all that I care, and that's it! You're not my father or my brother or from the same blood! You have no right over my life!"  
  
"Then sorry if I gave such an impression." Logan pulled her hands off his sweater and he would remember the texture of her skin there, baby-soft and warm, for the rest of his life.  
  
"Y'know something, Logan?" Rogue pulled her hands roughly away from his and backed away. "You just want me to end up lonely like you. In fact, you want everybody in this whole wide, mutant-hating world to end up lonely just like you. That's why you're so goddam grumpy and angry all the time.   
  
"See what you've just said? Forget. Forget what? Forget that this man in front of me saved my life, twice? Forget that you're the first person to hug me without any fear? Forget that you've been more than a brother for all these years?" Rogue wiped her eyes. "You better ask me to forget these things after I die and I won't even if the penalty is hell."  
  
Rogue ran back into her room and slammed the door. Logan stood there, clueless of what else to do.  
  
He had meant his words well, but it seemed Rogue took it the other way around. He knew he'd score big time when fighting, but social skills was just not his domain.   
  
Hank appeared out of nowhere behind him. "Cookies are great stress buster. Do you care to try one?" Hank said as he thrust a container full of colorful cookies to Logan's nose.   
  
Logan stared at him and the container. "Got a better idea, Hank. And that needs someone to be my punchin' bag. You want to volunteer?"  
  
Hank immediately walked away from him.  
  
  


_New Year's Eve  
7 pm_

  
  
"What happened to Logan? I haven't seen him much since Christmas."  
  
Rogue snaps out of her trance. Kitty was arranging her hair into a French twist to match the slinky backless red evening dress that Remy gave her as her Christmas present. "I don't know Kitty, and I don't wanna talk about it." She reaches for a lipstick and puts some on her lips. "He's totally lost his mind when he knew I was having a good time with Remy. Obviously he doesn't want me to have a good time. Maybe that's why he's so grumpy."  
  
Jubilee passes by, fixing her earring. "Maybe he's being nice."  
  
"Nice? You call telling others what to do - what's the word? - _patronizing_ a person a way to be nice?" Rogue turns to look at Jubilee furiously.  
  
"Damn it, Rogue, stop moving or I'll make an anthill on your head." It is the third time already. Rogue quickly apologizes.  
  
"Maybe that's just his way, Rogue. Different people have different style to express their feelings. Some probably have annoying way of saying thanks, but we can't blame them."  
  
"So, you're saying that him barking at people all week long is his way of saying 'Merry Christmas'?"  
  
Jubilee wraps her arms around Rogue's neck and looks at her eyes in the mirror. They pause for a moment as Kitty successfully completed the french twist. "That probably is. Now, forget this whole thing, forget your fight with Logan, and enjoy the night." She gives a light kiss on her cheek as she walks out of the room. "Gotta go, dears, I'm tonight's MC!"  
  
Rogue sits there, recalling what Logan had said to her._ I've been a total jerk,_ she thinks. _He probably means well, and I slapped him_. She frowns at her image. _But he's been such a jerk himself! Can't he see me enjoying myself?_   
  
Amorous as Remy may be, he was sane enough to stop them before jumping over the line. Nothing happened yesterday, except for kisses and more kisses. Things she has missed for almost all of her life.  
  
"There you go, Rogue. I can do nothing about that white hair, but I think it makes you look mature. You're tonight's steak, dear, and every male in the party will hear and see you sizzle." Kitty snaps her fingers. "Now I have to find a way to beat that look of yours."  
  
  
_

10 pm  
New Year's Eve

_  
  
The ball started two hours ago, and everyone is having a great time. Jubilee and Kurt, the ball's MCs look around in satisfaction. "This is great! We should do this every year."  
  
Kurt watches the game in progress; it is blind man's bluff. Rogue is currently the blind man and she darts here and there, looking for someone to touch. He is faintly aware that Jubilee is talking to him. "Yes… we should."  
  
She notices his stare. "I think she enjoys this," Jubilee said, sipping her drink. "How does she live for so long without touching anyone? I can't think of that…"  
  
Kurt is silent as he chews on a cookie. He sighs. "Outcasts… we are outcasts. People like her, like us… are outcasts. Some considers us spawn of the Devil, others more or less so. But we never ask for this… to happen to us. If there is God - and I know there is one God - then there is a reason for us to be who we are now. There is a reason for her to be who she is now."   
  
Jubilee lowers her face level with Kurt's and stares into that pupil-less eye. They are glowing dimly. "Kurt, I love it when you go philosophic all the way. It makes me feel frisky."  
  
Kurt looks up at her, alarmed. "I'm kidding, kidding!" Jubilee playfully slaps him in the back. Kurt manages a weak smile.   
  
"There are times I don't fool around with a priest, Kurt," Jubilee says as she walks to the crowd with him. "And there are times I do…"   
  
Kurt sees her smile cheekily and a solid slap lands at his butt. "_Mein Gott_! Stop it, Jubilee!"  
  
"All right, people, time for our next game! We're gonna tear this house down with this running around!"  
  
Jubilee's voice interrupts the crowd where Rogue almost caught Gambit who stealthily slinks away like a cat to other end of the room. He gives her a wink.  
  
"This next agenda is a game, and also is not a game." Confusion rises, and Jubilee quickly adds, "But you all will like it. Now, Kurt, tell us what is the time now and the rest of the rule of this game?"  
  
"It's ten past ten. The rules are simple: first, one will have to draw a name from this box I have here. The person whose name has been drawn loses a chance to draw a name and becomes a partner to the person who drew his or her name out. That's the easy part."  
  
Jubilee goes on. "The hard part is to keep your partner beside you for the next two hours. If anyone fails to do so, both will lose and go to the living room - "  
  
"Hey, that's no punishment!" someone yells.   
  
" - and watch Kathie Lee Gifford's Christmas Special on TV."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
Jubilee dodges the incoming questions as she goes on. "Now, to make things interesting, the couple, or couples, who can stay together for the longest time or until midnight will win a mystery prize."  
  
Everyone gasps. A prize?  
  
"And to make things more interesting and challenging, you can do anything - mark my words, ANYTHING - to shake off competitors. Just don't kill anyone. Hank's off duty tonight."  
  
In a corner Hank waves to Jubilee, the stolid Emma Frost standing beisde him.  
  
"Any questions?" Kurt asks. "No? Well, then, ready to play?"  
  
  
"I'll kill you if I get Scott, elf."  
  
Logan dips his hand inside the box and begins a long shuffling of the papers. When he notices Jubilee about to say something to him, he immediately takes out a piece.   
  
The only names left were Scott, Gambit, and Rogue. The three stand beside the stage while Logan unfolds the paper and silence falls on the crowd.   
  
Logan scowls, stares at the three, then at Jubilee and Kurt who unconsciously backed away a bit. "You sure this box ain't fixed?" he asked. Both shake their heads. "Rogue."  
  
"Oh, so that makes Gambit and Scott our fifth male couple for tonight!" Laughter explodes across the hall. "And six female couples, too."   
  
Scott looks at Gambit whose arms are wide open and looking at him with soft eyes . "Come to papa, mon ami."  
  
"Get away from me!"  
  
Gambit wiggles a finger at Scott's nose. "De prize, de prize! Won't de leader of X-Men be defeated in dis leetle game, eh?"  
  
Scott sighs. This plan is supposed to work for him, not against him. He is sure the rest of the X-Men are behind this. "I suppose I can make small sacrifices. But don't think this mean anything. Come on, let's play some poker with those ladies," he says, pointing to Jean and Ororo who are sitting together.  
  
For the first hour everyone is allowed to do anything they wished.  
  
  
Logan and Rogue sit on a sofa, looking at small glass containers filled with cookies. Two drinks are on it and one ashtray sits on Logan's side. But he isn't smoking.  
  
Rogue steals glances at him from time to time. She never saw him wearing formal clothes before. If seeing Hank wearing tux and tie is unusual, then seeing Logan wearing the same thing is way too weird. Especially the bowtie.   
  
"Whatcha starin' at, kid?"  
  
Rogue snaps out of her observations and tries to look calm as she gulps down her drink. "I don't think I ever saw you in these clothes before." She takes a cookie from a container. "It's weird."  
  
"I always hear that whenever I wear somethin' like this."  
_  
So you've worn this before. For whom? _  
  
She almost asked it, but couldn't. Wouldn't.   
  
"Weird, as in a fashion context, Logan. I don't mean you look weird. You look absolutely gorgeous in that tux and - "  
  
The words come out before she could stop them, but it is the truth. There is something very alluring with the way his feral looks conflicts with the sharp smartness of the suit… and if only someone has enough sense of fashion to pull out that bowtie.  
  
As if reading her mind he unfastens the bowtie and lets it fall on his lap. She hears him chuckling.  
  
Rogue slowly looks at him chuckle. Like tectonic plates that create new continents and boundaries, everything moves on his face and the other side of Logan is revealed. The side rarely seen by anyone. Whenever he smiles it is like a ray of sunshine through rain clouds.  
  
Almost instantly the mirage disappears, and the stolid, hard face re-emerged.  
  
"Rogue, 'bout you and Remy - "  
  
Rogue visibly sinks into the seat and closes her eyes. "Please, Logan. Not now."  
  
There is impatience in his voice when he says, "This can't wait, Rogue."  
  
"You have no right over my life, Logan. Just as anyone else. I love anyone I want, when I want. The consequences are mine to handle." Her voice is low but angry.  
  
"You don't give a damn about others who are in that consequence?"  
  
She opens her eyes. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"The people around you. Look, nothin' you do doesn't involve those around you. It affects them although no one tells that to your face."  
  
She is staring at him intently now. "You're trying to say that me lovin' Remy makes ** you** feel uncomfortable."  
  
Logan clears his throat. "I ain't sayin' that."  
  
Rogue knows his ploy of evading the issue. "It **is** that. Logan, how many times do I have to remind you I'm twenty now? Not that I hate you, but right now, I know what I'm doing. I don't need a mentor to look out for me all the time."  
  
Logan looks away. "Guess you'll be better off on your own, then." He sighs, his stare fell between his knees and then to her eyes.  
  
She is smiling. "Ya know, I don't know what else to say," she says. "It's not like I hate you looking out for me, not that. It's just that, I have my boundaries I don't want certain people to breach. And my feelings for Remy are one of them. You getting this?"  
  
"I s'pose so," Logan replies nonchalantly.  
  
"It's like someone's trying to get into your head and controls your every movement, every private action and reaction." Rogue sips her drink and goes on. "I hope you understand this, Logan. I just want to do what I want to do, without you or anyone else telling me to play by their rules."  
  
Logan recalls the flashbacks where some darned humans captured him and put him through one unspeakable hell after another, and his life was never the same afterwards. "You don't really know that," he said with self-conviction.   
  
Rogue watches him gratefully. She knows he agrees, but she'll have to wait until hell freezes over to hear him admitting that. Typical of Logan the secretive. "Do you have anything else to say?" she asks. "Because folks are getting to the dance floor and seems they're having a great time."  
  
"Dance?" Logan frowns. "I don't dance."  
  
Rogue smiles mischievously. "Look. Even Mr Tight-ass's on the floor with Remy. He wants to win badly."  
  
Logan scans the dance floor. The couples have gotten thinner, only ten or so are on the dance floor. Then he catches a glimpse of Scott and Remy together. "What the hell…?"  
  
Rogue gets up and pulls his hands. "Come on, what you say? One dance."  
  
Logan hesitantly got up. "I'm no dancer, Rogue - "  
  
"Just one dance. If you danced, I'll forgive you for being such a total jerk since Christmas Eve." Rogue smiles again, her green eyes twinkling.   
  
Logan runs a hand through his hair. "Have I been a total jerk for that long?" His lopsided grin was charming.   
  
"Well, if we leave out your 'charming' traits like snappy, obstinate, grumpy, compulsive, etc. etc, then yes, you've been a total jerk only since Christmas Eve." She pulls him to the dance floor.  
  
"Hey, those are my **charming** traits," Logan protests as they stop at a spot on the dance floor. Rogue places his hand on her shoulder and his other hand on her waist.  
  
"Try this charming trait for a change, then."  
  
Contrary to his claims, Logan is a natural on the dance floor. In no time Rogue finds herself intimidated by his sway and his movement. Though he is only a scant taller than she is, she still feels intimidated. In a good way, but still intimidation isn't a pleasant emotion.   
  
As the slow music lulls the couples, Rogue feels Logan's hand underneath her chin. Her face is forced up and she meets his dark gaze.  
  
"Has it ever… occurred to you that, maybe… just a small bit of maybe… that you might be the one I've been waitin' for?"  
  
His unwavering gaze holds hers and Rogue isn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She swiftly looks down and places her cheek next to his heartbeat. It is flurried, like a frightened bird, and she is wondering what will he say next.  
  
His voice holds the tiniest hint of cracking. "Rogue… the reason I acted the way I did… it wasn't because I always looking out for you. It's - it's something else."  
  
His hands are tight on around her shoulders. "Please… don't say it."  
  
"I have to - "  
  
She quickly placed her forefinger on his lips. "No, please don't. I'm afraid it will ruin everything."  
  
"My life has been ruined ever since I can remember."  
  
"But mine has just begun, Logan." Rogue quickly cuts in. "Please don't make it so."  
  
Logan hugs her and she hugs him in return. "Why does everything has to be difficult?" he sighs into her hair. "I can't even tell you how much I loved you."  
  
"It's better left unsaid, Logan," Rogue says, trying to steady her voice. "It's better that way. Besides, Remy's a good man. And I love him." _ I love you too_.  
  
"So," Logan says, creating a space between them as not to let the others notice them, Remy's name a sour dose of reality inside his mind. "Is this the price of forgiveness?"  
  
"Nothing is free in this world, Logan. You know it." She tries to smile. Under the dim lights Logan could see her eyes shining with unshed tears. He nods at her, smiling sadly.  
  
"Yes. I'm glad it is." Then he pulls her close and drops a warm kiss on her forehead.   
  
"Happy New Year, Marie."  
  
The warmth there travels to Rogue's depth and she shudders, both from happiness and the knowledge this kiss could be the first and last she will ever get from him.  
  
"Happy New Year too, Logan."  
  
They dance some more until midnight.  
  
  
How in the world it happened, it's up to anyone's speculations, but the prize that night went to Scott and Remy as the most inseparable pair on the night. Blushing, Scott went up with Remy smiling all the way. When asked to say something, Remy said:  
  
"_Je t'aime_, Scott!" and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek. Scott face was beet red. For the next one week he did not speak to Remy.  
  
  
Two days later there is another baseball competition held at the same spot. This time the teams promised not to use their abilities. Two hours later Scott's team wins. Logan's team is defeated. When Rogue tries to look for Logan Kurt tells her he has missed him by a few minutes.   
  
She does not see him for the rest of the day.  
  
Next day she finds a small note on the bedroom door saying there is something for her in the art room. She knows whose handwriting it is, and she hurries to the room.   
  
The art room was empty save for chairs and tables. On one table, however lay a file. Upon it scrawled in Logan's big, masculine hand are 'FOR ROGUE'. When she opens it she gasps in delight.  
  
Logan has drawn her from yesterday's game. She was wearing a red shirt and short pants and a baseball cap. The drawing was done beautifully in chalk. Clipped to it is a small note.   
  
_Hope you like this other Christmas present. This girl did more than I can possibly thank her. Probably not in this lifetime. Glad you loved them cookies.  
_  
Rogue found later some areas on the drawing are blotchy, wet from her tears. Unconscious to her she has been crying.  
  
  
Rogue regains her powers one day in late January. Remy has the bad luck to kiss her and immediately faints. When she learns the facts, she is angry at first, but later calmed down, gradually accepting the reality, with a lot of help from Logan. Remy meanwhile is always supportive, as well as the rest of the students.  
  
When the day finally ends, she curls up on her bed, looks at her hands, takes out a book and a pen and starts to write. Of which nothing will be said here, but enough said that she had been grateful of the best Christmas she ever had and for the two men she thinks as the greatest men on earth.  
  
**The End**


End file.
